


we can't have any but we must we should

by entrecomillas



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entrecomillas/pseuds/entrecomillas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The sound of the waves crashing in the shore is a lot like a lullaby. Jesse would be asleep , were it not for the tension in the air, the knowledge that no matter how much he tries to focus on the soft and white sand beneath his hands and the clear sky above, there’s no way of forgetting about Andrew’s presence beside him.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can't have any but we must we should

The sound of the waves crashing in the shore is a lot like a lullaby. Jesse would be asleep , were it not for the tension in the air, the knowledge that no matter how much he tries to focus on the soft and white sand beneath his hands and the clear sky above, there’s no way of forgetting about Andrew’s presence beside him.

All he has to do is extend his fingers and he can brush Andrew’s naked chest, feel the delicate bump of each rib protruding from his thin torso. He’s fighting with himself until his pinky is finally reaching towards Andrew.

“Jess”

Jesse’s hand stops midway and becomes a closed fist.

“Jess, are you awake?”

He grunts. Andrew rolls over and there’s a thin layer of sand on his back and some stray grains in his unkempt hair. It takes Jesse a lot of self control to keep from reaching and brushing them off, but if there’s something he’s good at that’s repressing _things, urges, himself, everything._  


Andrew shifts a bit closer and now his body is wholly flushed against the side of Jesse’s. They’ve been under the sun for the most part of an hour, but Jesse has the feeling that the contact would burn him the same had they been in the middle of a snowstorm in Chicago.

Andrew’s big, brown eyes are boring into Jesse’s and it’d be one of those _time stood still as I got lost into his eyes_ moments if Jesse wasn’t so painfully aware of everything.

But maybe he isn’t that aware because the next thing he knows, Andrew’s lips are an inch away from his and the Cancún sky is sharp against the outline of Andrew’s face.  
Jesse’s neck is already straining forward when Andrew shakes his head and sits up.

“I’m sorry.”

Jesse lets his head fall back sharply, wishing it would really bump into something hard and _hurt_ so he could forget about the almost kiss and fucking Andrew apologizing. Instead, his head sinks softly into the sand.

“You shouldn’t be, Andrew.”

“Yes, yes I should, I mean, I..” Andrew hugs one of his knees close to his chest and rests his head on it, sighing. “Shannon.”

“What about her?”

“She loves me.”

Jesse just stares at him.

“That’s why I’m with her, but it’s not enough, you know? Not reason enough to stay.”  
Jesse brings his hands to his eyes and presses on them until there are red and purple shapes dancing in front of him. “That’s not reason enough to leave, either.”  
Andrew frowns and starts picking at his own toes. “Maybe she deserves better. I’m not in love with her anymore.”

Jesse opens his eyes to look at him and feels sick. There’s guilt pooling in his stomach, guilt that he’s been trying to get Andrew to fall for him instead for so long, guilt that even though Jesse likes Shannon and feels bad about Andrew’s confusion, he can’t help but feel hopeful.

“Why?” And Jesse knows what he wants to hear, knows that he’s hoping for _She’s not you_ or some other pathetically cheesy and cliché line, knows that the only thing that’d be better than that would be the pain of having Andrew say something else entirely, something like-

“I guess love isn’t something I do.”

And then Jesse’s world comes crashing down like it’s 1998 and Bittersweet Symphony is playing in the background. He’d say he’s never felt this broken before but he has episodes like these thrice a year. He’s practically made a sport out of falling for the impossible, the untouchable.

“What are you sorry about, Andrew?”

Andrew looks out to the sea. “I was about to kiss you. You deserve better, Jesse. Don’t even try to start with your self-deprecating bullshit, because you do.” He takes a handful of sand and watches it fall between his fingers. “Both Shannon and you, you know? Someone who can give himself whole and isn’t committed to anybody else.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Andrew half gasps, half laughs and finally looks at Jesse. “I know.”

“No, you don’t. Didn’t..” Jesse licks his lips and shakes his head, all the while unable to meet Andrew’s eyes. “… didn’t it occur to you that maybe we don’t give a fuck? That maybe we want whatever there’s of you, whatever part you’re willing to give us no matter how pathetically small it might be? That it’s not about what we deserve but what we want? That they’re the same thing?”

“Jess, I..”

“Don’t you Jesse me. I want this as much as you. Fuck that, I want this more. And you’re so selfish and gentlemanly even in your doucheness, that you end up making me feel like the bad guy, like I’m taking you away from Shannon and I’m sick for wanting you and you finally confess that you want me and then say you won’t have me?”  
Jesse’s chest is heaving and he doesn’t know when it was he stood up but now he’s pacing in circles around Andrew.

“It’s... Jess. I want this. I do. I want you so bad, but I can’t do this to her. Or you.”

“Yes, yes you fucking can. You’ve considered it, you’ve almost done it how many times this trip? What’s the difference if you don’t do it? Is it less of a cheat if you keep it platonic? If you still look at Craig Ferguson in the eye and tell him how falling for me was part of your method? If you’re still going to leave her because you feel bad about how much she loves you? Fuck you, Andrew! Fuck you for being perfect and then not really but still so fucking desirable and for convincing me about staying here and now I’ve no idea how to get back to the hotel and fuck _me_ for getting so obsessed with you.”

Jesse feels like throwing things and maybe drowning but instead sits again next to Andrew. They stay together in silence until the sun sets. Andrew reaches for Jesse’s hand.

“You don’t get to do this anymore. You either have me or not, I’m tired.”

“I know. And I told you I was sorry.”

This time there’s no almost and Andrew’s lips on Jesse’s are certain. The kiss feels like it has a purpose, something to accomplish. Like it’s the most beautiful broken thing.

**Author's Note:**

> This might or might not be part of a bigger Mexico fic collab with Brutal. Basically the boys are in Cancún for press duty and have a few days to themselves. Title and cut text taken from Cocorosie's _Butterscotch_.


End file.
